


Safe Here In Your Arms

by SpiritMuse



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Crimes, Terribly Soft, Waking Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26614732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritMuse/pseuds/SpiritMuse
Summary: Aziraphale loves watching Crowley wake up in the mornings.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 63





	Safe Here In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> 100% self indulgent fluff. <3

Aziraphale loves watching Crowley wake up in the mornings. 

As a demon, Crowley tends to be very uneasy about things like niceness and kindness and _affection._ He will always perform them when Aziraphale asks—and often also when Aziraphale doesn't ask—but all the while he will do things like grumble all the way through, or frown and scrunch his nose like it's something distasteful.

Aziraphale knows Crowley doesn't mean those things. He knows that they are only for show. Still, sometimes he wishes Crowley would just leave it be. That he'd just let himself be gentle and soft and _nice_ , for once.

He understands why Crowley still keeps doing it. Just like himself, Crowley has had thousands of years of living under his superiors' yoke, of being expected to behave a certain way under threat of severe punishment. And that sort of conditioning isn't easily broken—Aziraphale knows this from experience.

But in the early mornings, when Crowley is just drowsily opening his eyes, when he is not yet fully awake, and not yet fully aware, there will be a few moments where he forgets. Where he lets himself be genuinely soft and sweet, for just a few seconds.

Aziraphale cherishes those moments. It's one of the reasons he stays awake while Crowley sleeps.

Some mornings are a little different, however. Every once in a while, Crowley doesn't wake up soft and sweet, but with a frown and a tight mouth. He will pretend to be as calm and relaxed as ever, but Aziraphale can tell the difference. It had taken him a while to draw it out of Crowley, but he knows now that every so often, Crowley wakes up with a terrible knot of anxiety in his stomach, often for no easily discernible reason. 

Today is one of those days. Long before Crowley opens his eyes, Aziraphale already sees the all too familiar worry line in between his eyebrows. And he knows that when Crowley does open his eyes, they will be fully yellow.

He puts away his book—he wasn't really reading it anymore anyway—and turns to his still slumbering companion. He quietly, carefully manoeuvres himself further under the covers, not wanting to rouse Crowley before he's ready. Then he waits, patiently.

It isn't long before Crowley's eyes flicker open. Fully yellow, as expected. He blinks, and slowly focuses on Aziraphale with a frown. He's not quite awake enough yet to fully disguise the unease.

"One of those mornings?" Aziraphale asks quietly, almost superfluously.

Crowley squints, and grunts in begrudging acknowledgement.

"Come here then," Aziraphale says, and gently wraps his arms around his still muzzy companion. He pulls him close, even brings up one leg to wrap around Crowley's. He tries his best to hold him with his whole body, enveloping him as completely as possible. He feels Crowley's arms slowly snake around his back in return.

As long as it had taken Aziraphale to draw out the information, longer still had it taken him to convince his demon to let him help. It is still challenging for Crowley to let himself be vulnerable around someone else—even his angel. But, over time, he's learned to trust Aziraphale with this particular vulnerability.

Aziraphale presses Crowley to him very tightly, with more force than an ordinary human would tolerate. He knows this pressure helps Crowley feel grounded in his body, helps him feel safe, and protected. Crowley buries his face in Aziraphale's chest, seeking out his familiar warmth and comfort. He sighs deeply, and holds on to Aziraphale a little tighter.

They stay like this for a long time, and Aziraphale can feel it as Crowley's breaths gradually become a little slower, and a little deeper. For a moment, he thinks Crowley might have fallen back asleep—it wouldn't be the first time—but then Crowley takes a deep breath and stirs, and Aziraphale knows this is his cue to let go.

Slowly, they disentangle themselves from one another, until they are left under the covers separate, but together, faces only an inch or two apart. 

"Better?" Aziraphale asks quietly.

Crowley grunts in acknowledgement. His eyes close, and when they open again, they look a little more human.

"'S alright," he murmurs, not quite looking at Aziraphale.

"Good morning, then, my dearest demon," Aziraphale says, and smiles fondly. It makes Crowley frown and wrinkle his nose, and all of a sudden, it's a game. The more Crowley frowns, the wider Aziraphale smiles. 

Until finally, inevitably, Crowley cracks and lets out a quiet snort of laughter.

"Bastard," he says, fighting his own smile.

"I know," says Aziraphale, smiling deliberately serenely.

Aziraphale loves watching Crowley wake up in the mornings. Even mornings like this.

Because the truth is, Aziraphale takes as much comfort from these moments as Crowley does. Because sometimes, he needs to be reminded that he is loved. That he is appreciated. That he is wanted. That he is _trusted._

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment if you liked. Be not afraid. :)


End file.
